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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302267">Fangorn Waits.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hennethgalad/pseuds/hennethgalad'>hennethgalad</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:47:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>788</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23302267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hennethgalad/pseuds/hennethgalad</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Pippin musing as the hobbits cross the Shire.</p>
<p>24: "He sat down on the bank at the side of the road and looked away east into the haze, beyond which lay the River, and the end of the Shire in which he had spent all his life."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Back to Middle-earth Month 2020: Endings and Beginnings</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fangorn Waits.</h2></a>
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<p><br/>   Pippin was more excited than he had been since the birthday when he had been given his own pony. He had been sick, not, unusually, from overeating, but perhaps a little overfeeling! <br/>   But of course, at his age such feelings were to be waved aside, they were for children! He was Peregrine Took, the first of his family to set forth on a quest in more than a hundred years. His father had spent a long evening impressing the gravity of his position as representative of the ancient and illustrious name of Took, and Pippin had found it easier to leave than he had expected. Not that he didn’t love his father, but the old hobbit could be a bit stiff, a bit... Pippin smiled; Pearl had come  to his rescue, fussing over father with herbal tea and warmed slippers. He would miss his sisters, they had always stood between him and his father, between him and the world. His mother just agreed with everything his father said; though she was sweet, and kind when left to herself. But his father! His father imagined that the whole Shire was agog to hear his next thought, when in truth they probably gave the old thain little thought between one harvest and the next. The weight of history hung heavily on Great Smials, and Pippin was glad to escape for a while.</p>
<p>   The weather was fine, the view was inspiring, he only had one, very small, blister, and he was tremendously looking forwards to some jolly larks with Merry and old Frodo, who had turned out to be far livelier than Pippin had given him credit for. Selling Bag End! It was hard to believe; after Bilbo went off, Frodo had taken his place and seemed to settle into Bag End as though he had grown roots into the Hill. Pippin pursed his lips, he would miss staying there after they returned, for no one wanted to call on Lobelia! <br/>   He would miss everything, he supposed; the morning light in his bedroom, the blackbird who raised a family in the tree outside every year, the pies at the Green Dragon, the beer at the Green Dragon... <br/>  <br/>   But the wind ruffled his hair, bringing the scent of meadow flowers and falling leaves, and his toes curled with excitement. The world was full of inns, each with a different ale, or wine, or some dark mysterious brew with a strange dwarven name, there were travellers tales even in the Shire (mostly from Tooks!) and then of course there were Men, he had never really talked to a Man before; though they passed through the Shire, they rarely stopped to talk to hobbits. And, like Sam, he longed to see elves. He did not share the reverence of Sam, nor Frodo’s fascination with the olden days, he was just curious. Could they really live forever? Were they really all beautiful and wise and all that? It seemed unlikely to Pippin. If they looked just like Men and generally acted just like Men, he expected they'd be, well, just like Men. But the excitement of the others added to his own excitement at adventure, and he grinned, as Sam began to whistle 'Hearth and Bread'.</p>
<p>   He rose to his feet, working his arms to ease the pain where his pack had dug into his shoulders. He thought about a thicker jacket, to cushion him, but really, it was far too hot. Even the birds seemed scarcely to bother chasing the insects over the fields, hanging in the air, turning lazy circles like hobbits on a visiting day. <br/>  He laughed, he himself was just such a hobbit! Gandalf had actually snapped at him once when he asked a question that turned out to be exceptionally stupid. 'Peregrine Took!' the old wizard had said 'You have one of the finest minds in the Shire and the Four Villages, yet you will not apply it, neither to your books nor to your own thoughts! You may waste as much of your time as you please, young hobbit, but do not waste mine!'<br/>   Peregrine paused, wondering what had happened to Gandalf. Frodo was very worried. But then, Gandalf was always disappearing and turning up again, Pippin felt sure they’d see him soon. </p>
<p>   Down in the fields a pony, ridden by a fat hobbit, was passing by, too far away to recognise. Otherwise they were alone, which, after the tumult of the move, was rather pleasant. The vastness of the horizon beckoned him onwards, full of promise, mystery and adventure. He thought of the line in Bilbo’s song 'that none but we have seen alone' and longed above all to see something that no one else had ever seen. </p>
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